


elastic (but bound to break)

by whumperooni



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Choking, F/M, Gaslighting, German pet names, Hair-pulling, Rape/Non-con Elements, fucking on top of a corpse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumperooni/pseuds/whumperooni
Summary: She just won't seem to break. (And he loves it)
Relationships: Strade (BTD/TNR)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	elastic (but bound to break)

“Kill them.”

“Wh- _what?!_ ”

“Kill. Them.”

A sharp intake of air and Strade is in love for a moment. The _fear_ and the _panic_ and the _wild_ desperation all across a fucked up face has him hard, has his excitement shooting up along with his pulse.

She shakes like a leaf, his little bunny, and he thinks that he will have to kill her, regrets it a bit.

She’s been fun, this one. One he’s been able to play with without breaking. It’s refreshing to have a sweet little thing that keeps clinging to their will to live, that keeps bouncing back even as he pushes her further and further toward the edge.

A swallow moves a pretty throat- a throat that he’s marked with his teeth and his knives and bruising grips- and her head snaps up, his mouth stretches into a grin.

Oh, that determination on her face. That sheer fucking _grit_. That selfish _tenacity_.

He wants to _fuck_ her. Fuck that wild eyed resolve away, destroy that frantic spunk as he rips into her with his cock and his teeth and his _hunger_ for that desperate spirit.

_What_ is going to make this little bunny break? How far can she go before she shatters?

Strade licks his lips and breathes in heavily, watches as she turns to the screaming girl on the ground. He hasn’t given her a knife. He hasn’t given her a weapon. She’s going to have to use her hands for this. She’s going to have to destroy someone with her own body.

Strade watches as she takes a step toward the trussed up runaway he had picked up for this. He watches as she falls to her knees- eyes wide and manic and _wild_.

He can’t help but to run a hand over his crotch as he watches. He can’t help but to pull out his cock and stroke it as she reaches out with shaking hands and digs her fingers into a dirty neck. He strokes as she chokes the sobbing little thing and, when she moves to straddle the woman so she can get better leverage, Strade feels some self-control snap, fucks into his own fist as he watches thin shoulders strain with the effort of trying to end a life.

“Oh, _liebling_.”

It comes as a growl and ends with a chuckle. She responds in kind with a strangled sob and Strade has to chuckle again, walks over to her slowly as he strokes himself.

A look over her shoulder and he can see the runaway is dead. Her hands are still grasping, though- strangling the throat of someone she’s already killed.

Strade wants to groan at the sight but, instead, he reaches out and grips her dirty hair, snaps her head back hard enough to give her whiplash. Tears have washed down her face, left streaks in the dirt and blood and come that’s been caked onto her cheeks. She’s still crying, and she’s whimpering- eyes still wide and panicked and chest heaving with left over adrenaline. Strade offers her a smile and the baring of his teeth makes her shudder, makes a raspy gasp leave her.

“Good job, schatz,” he tells her, patting her cheek with his free hand. “You have your first kill.”

A startled, panicked noise leaves her and she shakes her head, gasps when she forces her own hair to pull.

“I- I didn’t...I _had to!_ You-”

“Didn’t do anything but enjoy the show,” he tells her cheerfully. He twists her hair in his grasp and forces her to look at the corpse she’s still straddling, licks his lips at the shrill noise that leaves her. “You chose to do this, hase.”

A hoarse, " _No_ …" leaves her and Strade grins, releases her hair and shoves her down. She shrieks, but before she can run, he has her hands pinned to the small of her back, her calves pinned down by his knees.

“You chose to do this,” he repeats, keeping her in place even as she tries to squirm. “And you did a good job, buddy. Take pride in it.”

He gets a choked " _fuck you"_ for that one and Strade grins, reaches out to run a finger through her abused slit.

“Mm, maybe. You’re wet enough for it.”

A sharp intake and she goes perfectly still, body tightening up underneath him.

“I-I’m not,” she whispers. “ _Liar_.”

“Sometimes,” Strade admits. He runs a finger through her slit again and then drags the pad of it along her ass, smirks at the whimper that leaves her. “But not about this.”

A sob and she shakes, struggles in vain to escape him. It’s almost cute and he almost wants to push this part further, but he’s already at his limit and he _needs_ to fuck this newly made murderess before he truly loses control and rips apart the little bunny in eagerness.

Strade moves himself into a better position and he wraps his free hand around his cock, eases into her with a well practiced motion. A cry leaves her and Strade fucks into her for a few beats, twists his leg until he can press his boot against her skull and force her to lay face to face with her kill.

She _wails_ at that and thrashes and kicks and tries to escape, but that only makes Strade grin wider, makes him fuck her harder.

“If you feel so bad, liebling, then maybe you should apologize to her,” Strade suggests as he grinds his boot against her head. “Kiss and makeup.”

The noise that comes from her is positively _inhuman_. Strade relishes it, relishes the feeling of her _wet_ cunt and the sight of her battered body pressed against the corpse and the screams that fill his basement.

When he comes, he lets her wrists go and they fall to the floor, her body goes limp. She doesn’t move as he fucks into her, she doesn’t try to squirm away as he pulls her hips tight against his so he can his come _deep_ inside.

When he pulls out, she falls off the corpse and onto her side. Strade can see that her eyes have fallen dead and dull, can see that the fear has bled out and left behind something blank.

“Ah,” he murmurs, tucking himself back into his pants. “Are you finally _broken_?”

He reaches out to grip her chin and her eyes flick up at him, a shudder wracks through her.

" _Fuck you_."

The whisper makes Strade grin and he chuckles to himself, feels his excitement start to rise again.

Well. It looks like he’ll just have to keep pushing her then.


End file.
